


Fever Dreams

by windchijmes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Oikawa Tooru, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Knotting, M/M, Mention of Daichi/Sugawara, Mild Language, Mild Slut-Shaming, Non-Consensual Touching, Omega Kageyama Tobio, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windchijmes/pseuds/windchijmes
Summary: (Post-Karasuno, somewhere in the time-skip. Some deviations from canon. Here's another warning fordubious consentbecause this is an Alpha/Omega fic after all.)Oikawa Tooru has principles. Some principles. Yes, he detests Kageyama Tobio’s natural volleyball talent. Yes, he finds it ironic that the snarky and proud Tobio is an Omega. But when Oikawa sees the little brat being harassed by other Alphas, he can’t just ignore it. And now he has a very worked up, pissed off, and horny Tobio on his hands.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 26
Kudos: 359





	1. Chapter 1

Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa Tooru’s life is like clockwork. His activities are planned well in advance and he does not show up half-assed to anything, really. Volleyball practices, matches, dates, social gatherings, family meals, you name it. All neatly scheduled so that everyone can get their fair share of him, and he gets the most out of everyone’s company. Win-win.

 _Today_ however, is different. By all means, it is a lovely day, the kind that is best enjoyed on one's own. Every now and then, Oikawa likes being alone. _Social detoxing_ is what he calls it. On this day, he is taking a brisk walk through the neighbourhood park, minding his own business other than flashing the occasional winsome smile at passers-by, taking a turn into a quieter nook of the park, relishing this moment of just being by hims –

_You’re absolutely fucking kidding me._

Oikawa freezes in mid-step as he stares ahead of him. _How_ is this possible? There is no shortage of parks in Miyagi Prefecture, last he checked. Why is Kageyama Tobio here of all places? The sight of Tobio is nothing short of a sledgehammer to the brain. They haven’t crossed paths since Tobio graduated from Karasuno High and that was at least a year ago.

And right now, Iwa-chan is not around to mediate.

In an instant, the familiar storm of conflicted jealousy and strange attachment that always accompanies the mere thought of Tobio surges over Oikawa. _Fuck me_ , Oikawa groans aloud, irritation already flaring through him. There is no mistaking that long, narrow figure standing by the wooden bridge. Dark eyes narrowed into flints. Chin lifted in defiance. Lips pressed in a thin, livid line.

Yup, that’s Tobio, all right.

And three Alphas surrounding Tobio.

Oikawa frowns, aggravated that he has instinctively homed in on the fact that they are Alphas. Secondary gender status has always been – _will always be_ – an issue of biology to Oikawa. Nature determined that he was born Alpha, but he makes his choices and his choices make his life.

But right now, Oikawa feels his body clenching, reacting to something his brain isn’t registering just yet.

He lifts his head and tests the air. 

It hits him a second later. The _scent_ in the air. Now that all his senses are ignited, Oikawa finally smells it. This fucking scent. Piercing right through the green, earthy smell of shrubs and undergrowth, and the cloying, muddied smells of people, is a single note of sweetness. Pure and titillatingly _different_. It is growing steadily too, like a just-lit candle flickering to life and glowing brighter by the moment.

The scent of an Omega. One that is in pre-heat and whose body would soon bloom into full heat. Hot, wet and ripe for an Alpha to ravish –

Oikawa grits his teeth and snaps himself out of his ridiculous thoughts. The only Omega within his senses is fucking Kageyama Tobio. And he had been thinking of _fucking_ Kageyama Tobio. Holy hell. He’s always known that Tobio is an Omega even if the boy never spoke openly of it. The occasional unexplained absences from school, that distinct odour of suppressants that manifested around Tobio once a month…Oikawa knew what that all meant, but he’d never cared about it. Tobio’s natural and precocious talent for volleyball was all that ever mattered to Oikawa.

So why is he caring _now_? Whatever happened to all that school angst between them?

Torn with indecision, Oikawa stands frozen like an idiot, eyes riveted on distasteful situation unfolding before him. 

The Alphas aren’t getting physical with Tobio or anything – yet – but from the way they are _looking_ at him, it’s only a matter of time that they do. Unbidden, Oikawa’s hackles begin to rise. He knows that look. It’s that sticky, dangerous leer that Oikawa himself has levelled upon Omegas. Eager, _willing_ Omegas. That’s the difference.

Tobio is standing very still, his stance commanding despite his precarious situation.

Oikawa snorts under his breath. He wouldn’t expect anything less from Kageyama Tobio. That boy is, after all, all fire and steel. But jogging out in public while in heat? That’s a special kind of stupid.

Unbidden, Oikawa takes a few steps towards the group. It’s none of his goddamned business, but he cannot _help_ it, heaven help him. It has been a bad habit of his since junior high. When Tobio is within sight and scent, Oikawa just has to do something about it. Right this moment he is near enough to catch the thickening pheromones in the air – lust, hunger, dominance, and a fragile sliver of anxiety that is unmistakably from Tobio.

He also hears the men’s voices.

Something-something about a _little slut,_ _pretty_ , and a _tight ass_.

Then one of the fuckers touches Tobio.

Oikawa is moving before he realises it, cutting a path right across the leaf-strewn ground towards Tobio.

“Yoo-hoo~” Oikawa hollers his presence, _because why the hell not_? “There you are, Tobio-chan!”

++++++++++

It is a shit day. The shittiest day in the history of shitty days.

He had woken up in the morning with a raging migraine and aches _everywhere_ in his body. He felt warm, almost feverish. He knew he had not contracted any illness, so that could only mean one thing. He was in –

Kageyama had simply shut that thought down, forced himself out of bed, and marched to the medical cabinet to down a double dose of suppressants. The first thing on his schedule that day was a morning jog and that was exactly what he planned to do. It was trickier with his current physical condition, but he had done it before, and he would do it again.

So, he chose a remote park, relatively near his place, but isolated enough to afford him some space. Then he chose a quiet pedestrian path away from cyclists and too-cheery park-goers. Why was everyone so damn chirpy, seriously? Maybe because they weren’t Omegas, he had thought with a vengeance. Or they’re happily bonded Omegas. He couldn’t decide which was worse.

He hadn’t gotten very far – somewhere near the bridge – when he literally stumbled upon three fucking Alphas. It might have been his own fault; he was concentrating so hard on keeping his mind clear that he hadn’t noticed them at all until he ran into them.

Now he’s surrounded. They’ve encircled him on all sides.

Kageyama squares his shoulders, tension beginning to trickle through his body. There are three of them. This isn’t going to end well.

“Look at you,” one of them gives him a greasy smile, stepping into his personal space.

Kageyama stares blankly at nothing. He’s never thought of himself as particularly attractive but he knows his looks appeal to certain types of Alphas. The kind who likes to say _I love a challenge_ before leaning in way too close. Most times it ends with the Alpha yowling bloody murder as Kageyama defends himself with appropriate violence.

“Don’t touch me,” Kageyama snarls in warning.

They laugh at him. The waves of lust coiling off them felt like slithering fingers on Kageyama’s skin. He knows that what they want from him has nothing to do with actual desire; it is simply a display of power by the Alphas at his expense.

The second Alpha raised his head and sniffs, licking his lips obscenely as he does. “Ahh,” he drawls. “You’re ready to breed, aren’t you?”

Kageyama’s gut _twists_ at that insult. His hands are shaking with the effort to control himself. And in his condition – an icicle of something close to fear slides down his spine – he may surrender without a fight. No, no, he has to _leave_.

“Come on now. Let’s see what that pretty mouth can do.”

One of them makes a grab for him. Kageyama sees it coming just a split-second late. He jerks back, but not before his chin is seized in a meaty grip. Stomach lurching in disgust, Kageyama tosses his head, but the man’s thumb slides lewdly over his lips. His face is too close. A wave of nausea rises dizzyingly up Kageyama’s chest. The instinctive desire to submit rears its ugly head and he hates his own traitorous body. There is thick, heavy, _wet_ breathing on his cheek.

“You smell so good. Bet your ass is real tight, you little slut.”

He _hears_ them but can no longer tell which Alpha is speaking. The ache in his head throbs even harder.

“Yoo-hoo! There you are, Tobio-chan!”

That voice is –

There is a sudden stillness as everything just comes to a stop. Kageyama feels himself suddenly freed. He turns his head in confusion as _Oikawa Tooru_ descends upon him. Flouncy-haired and entirely too merry for the suffocating tension in the air.

Wha – at? Kageyama just _gapes_ at his former senior.

A hand, long-fingered and graceful, closes around Kageyama’s shoulder, the touch calming him and dragging his mind out of the fog. Oikawa’s other hand flattens against the chest of one of the Alphas, then _shoves_. The action looks deceptively light, almost frivolous even, but the man is sent sprawling heavily to the ground.

“Sorry,” Oikawa says airily. “Got a bit carried away there.” He steps into the space before Kageyama, putting himself between Kageyama and the other Alphas. “Now, Tobio-chan, what’s going on here?”

Kageyama blinks, suddenly feeling light-headed. The abrupt turns of events are making his mind spin. What _is_ going on here, really? Why is Oikawa – huh? “Why are you here?” rushes out of his mouth.

Something flashes in Oikawa’s gaze. “Looking for you, of course.” He leans close and his voice lowers. “Are you okay?”

Kageyama nods his head dumbly.

“Hey, we saw him _first_. Get your own bitch.”

Before Kageyama can react, Oikawa’s hand slides down and firmly encircles his waist in a blatant display of ownership and protectiveness. Heat rushes to Kageyama’s face; he is all too keenly aware of Oikawa’s presence right now. That almost showy display of dominance is so reminiscent of the way Oikawa’s aura would overwhelm the whole volleyball court the moment he steps on it.

The heat in Kageyama’s body, already rising to the fore, is now _ablaze_. His cheeks flush. The rush of emotions hit him all at once. Helplessness, shame, desire, fury. This feels _different_ to all his previous experiences. When the other Alphas’ advances had made him recoil, Oikawa’s touch had the catalytic effect of igniting his arousal. This discovery makes Kageyama’s head spin. He cannot tell which is a worse outcome for him. Being subject to the lust of undesirable Alphas, or himself lusting for Oikawa – mercurial, volatile and generally a man of questionable character. Also his former junior school senior, which makes everything worse.

Almost as if hearing Kageyama’s thoughts, Oikawa’s fingers dig into his waist hard enough to hurt. Oikawa is still smiling but his eyes are cold as they meet the resentful glares from the other Alphas. Oikawa has drawn himself to his full height, and the bristling strength that now radiates from him is palpable. His scent reaches Kageyama’s senses in a heady rush. It is clear, bright and powerful.

It also makes the other Alphas falter. They can challenge and fight, of course, but they won’t leave the scene unscathed either if they do.

Sensing their hesitation, Oikawa turns his head and he looks right into Kageyama’s eyes. “Let’s go, Tobio,” he says with finality. “I think we’re done here.”

Kageyama struggles with his gut reflex to rebel. He’s spent too many years both admiring and resenting Oikawa Tooru to just _bow down_ to the older man’s Alpha status. But the day has dragged on for too long, the emotional rollercoaster that he has just been put through is too fucking much, he is in heat and he is utterly _drained_.

So Kageyama just nods his head _yes_ and lets himself be escorted out of the situation like a true damsel in distress. 

Oikawa steers them both away, staring down the other men as he does so. They do not challenge him, instead sidling away with discontent growls. Not a further word is exchanged. It is almost as if a tacit, albeit reluctant, understanding has been reached between all the Alphas.

So, this is how Kageyama finds himself walking away, Oikawa’s arm still holding him. He has no idea what to say so he keeps his mouth shut. Also, his whole body _aches_ and the world is tilting around him. He wishes with all his might that he’s stayed in bed that day. Maybe when he finally gets home, he can sleep off this terrible, shitty day.

They keep up this pretence for some distance, until they have reached a public washroom. It is secluded, tucked away on a quiet path that leads away from the main park. Kageyama is practically _shoved_ inside. He stumbles, yelping, but before he can say a word, he is spun around and slammed into the door.

All the air leaves Kageyama’s chest. Oikawa is leaning over him, hands braced on the door and caging Kageyama within his arms. He is reminded very suddenly that Oikawa is twenty-two and a _man_ now. He is an inch or two taller than Kageyama and muscles are corded tightly around his broad shoulders. He also smells enticingly masculine, a mix of perspiration, musk and aggression.

Trapped in this tiny space, Kageyama’s senses are in overdrive, every fibre of his being hyper aware of the Alpha crushed against him. His body is _responding_ , almost violently so. He is _burning_ up inside and worse, far worse, he can feel the first tendrils of arousal beginning to unfurl deep in his loins. In no time, he would be overwhelmed. Oh shit. _Shit._

“So, Tobio- _chan._ ” The smile slips from Oikawa’s face. “What the _fuck_ was that all about?”

++++++++++

Up close, Tobio’s face is extraordinarily expressive, even when he does not speak. Staring up at Oikawa, a storm of emotions flashes across Tobio’s eyes. Yet, after several long moments, his face shuts down and his usual impenetrable mask is firmly in place. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says at length, his voice so flat that they both know it is just an act.

Oikawa takes a deep breath to compose himself because he has a reputation to uphold and he is not about to kick the ass of this brat here like he so badly wants to. “Tobio,” he tries again, enunciating each word with deliberate calm. “What are you doing out here while you’re in _heat_?”

Tobio’s eyes flare wide. It’s almost comical, except Oikawa isn’t laughing. Also, Tobio’s lower lip is beginning to jut out in an expression that dangerously resembles a pout. “I have to jog today,” Tobio concedes sullenly. “It’s on my training schedule.”

It takes about two seconds for Oikawa to digest the boy’s words. Then he erupts. “Excuse the fuck outta me?” Reputation be damned. “Jogging out in public – in heat – what?” Oikawa grates out. “Your training schedule is supposed to be planned around your heat cycle – don’t you know that already? If I weren’t around just now – ” Oikawa shuts his mouth at that moment, realising abruptly he is starting to sound like someone’s demented aunt. Why the fuck is he so worked up for?

Because Tobio is being _Tobio_ , reckless, thoughtless and entirely uncaring of his own safety.

The younger man turns his face and glares to one side. He looks angry…and deflated. “Club training isn’t like high-school,” he mutters, voice growing quieter. “I won’t be able to keep up if I have to keep missing training. There are other players who are just as good as I am and they can replace me just like that. You know what I mean.”

That Oikawa _does_ know. In fact, he knows it so well it has become a running theme in his life now. It is the reality of pursuing your sporting dream, all the while _being_ pursued by usurpers snapping at your heels. Professional volleyball in a nutshell. Still, there are priorities.

“You won’t keep up either if you’re attacked and hurt,” Oikawa tells him, leaving the darker implications unsaid, allowing the brat to draw his own conclusions.

The boy looks up sharply at him, a sort of belated realisation dawning on his face. He seems torn. Then, he glares with all the frustration and hurt in the world he can muster. “It’s not _fair_.”

There is something so innocent about the way Tobio says that, that for a fleeting moment, Oikawa sees the Tobio from their school days – eager, precocious and high-spirited. Then, that little slice of nostalgia is gone, and Oikawa shrugs resignedly in reply. Tobio is not wrong. Life _is_ unfair and can be downright ugly at times, but it is how it is. You learn to roll with the punches, and then dish out some of your own.

Oikawa eases up from Tobio, stepping back to give both of them some space. The kid probably needs it. Tobio looks overwhelmed by his whole ordeal, not to mention his heat is clearly taking hold. His scent is blooming thicker and fuller by the second.

“Go home, Tobio,” Oikawa shakes his head, the sharpest edges of his anger dissipating. He is still pissed, make no mistake, but it’s been a long day for both of them. Not to mention, it’s been a while since he last faced down other Alphas over the right to an Omega. Even without physical violence, the power struggle is draining. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We’ll grab a taxi at – hey – oi, oi, oi, Tobio!”

Tobio barely hears him. Beads of perspiration are trickling down his temples. His breathing has gone erratic, almost panting now, eyes glazing over in a way that is absolutely not normal. He takes a step towards Oikawa, blinks unseeingly, then _sways_.

Oikawa snaps forward and catches Tobio before he collapses. He inhales sharply as Tobio’s weight sinks into him. The kid is almost entirely limp in his arms.

Something bumps into Oikawa’s cheek and he realises a mortifying second later that it is Tobio’s forehead. The boy’s scent swells into the air, flooding the tiny cubicle around them, gliding sensuously over Oikawa’s skin. His throat going dry, Oikawa’s gaze slips down without his bidding and he stares at the curve of Tobio’s neck. He wonders what Tobio would do if he bites his neck _right there_. Arousal courses through his whole body, and Oikawa has to grit his teeth to fight it. This is Tobio, for god’s sake. But already that thought is receding from Oikawa’s mind, and all that is screaming in his consciousness is the _Omega’s_ heat beckoning to him to _mark, breed, fuck, claim_.

“Tobio,” Oikawa hisses urgently. “Get yourself – ”

That is as far as he gets, before Tobio’s head snaps up and his arms wrap around Oikawa’s neck. Oikawa gasps and the sound is muffled by Tobio’s mouth colliding into his own. It’s wild and unrestrained, like Tobio is trying to crawl into Oikawa’s throat through the kiss.

Oikawa’s mind devolves into several horrifying realisations.

Tobio is kissing him. _Kageyama Tobio_ , that little brat who dogged him all throughout junior high is…Kissing. Him. With lips and teeth and fucking _tongue_. His body presses into Oikawa, feverish and so _pliant_.

Alarms go off like sirens in Oikawa’s brain. Too late. His Alpha instincts roar to life and Oikawa’s mind goes blank as hunger flares hot and demanding throughout his body. Gripping Tobio by the hair, he yanks the boy’s head back roughly, and a heartbeat later, his head is buried in the Omega’s neck. He inhales deeply, rumbling in his throat when the arousing smell of rain and overcast skies, laced with the promise of pleasure, suffuse his senses. Trembling against Oikawa, Tobio is growing hard between his legs. Panting moans fell from his lips and he clutches at Oikawa’s shoulders, a wordless plea for relief from the Alpha.

Oikawa’s mouth finds the scent gland pulsing through Tobio’s heated skin. His tongue slides over Tobio’s flesh, mapping the way for his teeth to follow, scraping teasingly over it. All he has to do is bite and the Omega is _his_.

Quivering hands tangle into Oikawa’s hair. “Oikawa…please…”

The sound of his own name, said in Tobio’s strained, confused voice, wrenches Oikawa back to reality.

Eyes flying open, Oikawa rears back with a gasp. The world spins crazily around him and for a moment, he cannot see anything. Finally, his vision focuses on the heap of rumpled limbs and needy moaning in his arms. Tobio is still nuzzling at him, one hand curled around a fistful of Oikawa’s shirt. Below, the groin and seat of Tobio’s pants are growing damper and hotter. Oikawa can imagine that sweet flesh in there waiting to be tasted and invaded. Also, the heat permeating from Tobio seems to be rising by the second; Oikawa feels like his own skin is catching fire.

Holy fucking shit.

With way more difficulty than it should be, Oikawa leans back as much as he can with Tobio’s arms still clinging to him. He places an unsteady hand on Tobio’s chest to keep him back. “Sorry,” he manages through gritted teeth. “Goddamned it, Tobio, did I hurt you?” he tries to check Tobio’s neck for bite marks. He remembers grazing the boy’s skin with his teeth – but he didn’t actually break the skin, did he? Fuck, _did he_?

“No,” Tobio answers him, sounding startlingly lucid.

When Oikawa looks up, he finds Tobio’s gaze riveted upon him, raw and searing. The earlier bleariness in his expression is gone – replaced by an all-consuming _need_. “Oikawa-san, I – ” he begins, the flush deepening on his cheeks. “I – I need – ”

Oikawa realises very suddenly what Tobio is asking of him. He _balks_. “We can’t…we…we hate each other…” he says, sounding unconvincing even to his own ears. His control is hanging by a _shred_. “We’re going to regret this later.”

“I need this _now_.”

Somehow that direct plea has a more astounding effect on Oikawa’s hardening cock than all the flowery flattery in the world. His gaze hones in on the reddened marks on Tobio’s neck, unable to look away from them. Those are from _his_ teeth and they look so right on the Omega’s neck.

“This would change _everything_. Things would be different,” Oikawa murmurs, but his words are betrayed by his own body a heartbeat later, when his hand begins caressing Tobio’s chest, fingers circling where he knows a nipple is hidden by the fabric. Details that had been inconsequential before now jump out at him, blurring his mind. Tobio’s hair falling into his pretty eyes, his tanned skin damp with sweat, his mouth reddened and kiss-swollen, and his heartbeat racing under Oikawa’s palm.

“I don’t _care_ ,” Tobio scowls, petulant, the way he always does when he is made to work for what he wants.

Maybe Oikawa cares, even if Tobio doesn’t. But that caution is fast evaporating in the wake of long-buried Alpha desires rousing to life. He’s always been cautious about keeping a tight leash on his baser instincts, and thus far he’s been successful, but then his control has never been tested to its limits like it is now.

“…Are you sure?” Oikawa asks, uncertain if he’s directing the question at Tobio – or himself. Who knows, really? He can feel the last tenuous line of his control rapidly fraying. His urge to dominate and take possession of Tobio is engulfing him, all his focus constricting to a single point – the Omega offering himself right now.

“ _Yes_ ,” Tobio breathes.

That is all the permission he needs. Oikawa sees nothing but the red haze of lust. Growling deep in his throat, he flips Tobio around and crushes into him from behind. Their bodies line up perfectly, Oikawa’s chest pressing into Tobio’s back and feeling every quiver in the boy’s body. Taking Tobio’s wrists, he lifts them above their heads and pins them to the door. _Don’t move them_ , he commands, mouthing at the tender skin of Tobio’s nape. Over one shoulder, Tobio watches him, gaze darkened with want, and he nods.

 _Unexpectedly compliant_ , Oikawa notes with satisfaction. Oikawa’s hands drag down the front of Tobio’s chest, then up under his track top. His palms meet bare, heated skin. Like he expects, Tobio is lean and hard with muscle, yet he is still lanky in his youth, his waist girlishly-narrow. It is all too easy for Oikawa to lock one arm around Tobio, bracing some of his weight yet keeping him trapped, and his other hand to begin undoing the laces at Tobio’s pants.

Loosened, the track pants slip down Tobio’s legs to pool around his ankles. Oikawa leaves the underwear as it is, the thin white fabric contrasting beautifully with the bronze of Tobio’s skin, and somehow making the boy look even more indecent than if he had been completely naked. The tiny piece of cloth does nothing to hide the wetness seeping from the inviting dip between Tobio’s buttocks, or the way the boy trembles so sweetly at Oikawa’s every touch.

The thick, carnal smell of Tobio’s heat is overwhelming. Oikawa flexes his hips, unbidden, groaning when his hardening bulge fits _just right_ into Tobio’s ass, drawing an answering gasp from Tobio. The sound makes Oikawa’s cock pulse. It would be so easy, won’t it, for him to just bend Tobio over and take him from behind just like that. There is no way Tobio can resist him, not when the boy is already so far gone with heat.

But that is a possibility for another time – and another place. Right now, Oikawa just wants to hear Tobio makes sounds that he’s never made for any other Alpha. This is an Omega who would never easily yield, and as far as it looks, has never actually succumbed to an Alpha. And Oikawa sets about breaking down the boy’s barriers as he reaches down between Tobio’s thighs.

The cloth-covered bulge that Oikawa finds is hot and soaked through with pre-come. It is also stretched thin by the coiled erection within. Oikawa fondles Tobio leisurely, feeling the shape of Tobio’s shaft through the fabric, his touch too light to bring any real relief, yet stoking the boy’s arousal higher.

“Stop…stop playing around!” Tobio snaps finally, but the threat in his voice is instantly diminished by the choked moan he makes right after, when Oikawa yanks down his underwear to free his shaft.

Tobio’s cock springs up, hard and heavy, into Oikawa’s waiting hand. “You were saying…?” Oikawa murmurs into the boy’s ear, teeth nipping at the delicate lobe. His hand moves at the same time, dragging up and down Tobio’s engorged shaft, making sure the boy feels _every_ inch of his palm, beginning a rhythm that has Tobio squirming against him.

“Oikawa…” Tobio begins to whimper, but he silences himself by biting down hard on his arm.

Well, that won’t do. Oikawa brings his free arm back, caressing down Tobio’s back and buttocks, before sliding his fingers into the enticing cleft between. He finds that forbidden ring of muscle within, fluttering under his touch, and already wet with fluids. So _ready_.

“What do you want, Tobio-chan?” Oikawa teases, angling his head to press hungry, heated kisses along Tobio’s neck.

The boy shakes his head, refusing to answer, yet his body pushes back into Oikawa’s touch, wanting more. What a moment to be rebellious. Oikawa chuckles as he works one finger into Tobio’s passage, marvelling at how easily the flesh parts for him, sucking him in.

Tobio’s eyes squeeze shut, and not even his arm can muffle the little noises in his throat now. Moaning, he shifts restlessly in Oikawa’s arms. When he can find no comfort, he turns his head. “Please… _please_ …let me come…” he says in a voice hoarse with need. His eyelashes are wet with tears of frustration, and Oikawa doesn’t think he’s ever seen Tobio this _pretty_ before.

To reward him, Oikawa slides in yet another finger, twisting them around to spread Tobio wider, then in and out in hard, fast thrusts. His other hand mirrors the movement, pumping Tobio’s swollen erection in earnest until the boy’s hips are moving of their own accord, fucking into Oikawa’s hand. Over his shoulder, Tobio’s eyes are glazed, near-delirious with pleasure, and his lips open eagerly when Oikawa bends his head to kiss him.

“Come for me, hmm?” Oikawa commands softly, swallowing Tobio’s desperate moans in bruising kisses. He forces down his urge to bite and focuses on bringing Tobio to completion.

Then Tobio is crying out and jerking against him, and ribbons of white spurts over Oikawa’s hand and onto the door. Oikawa does not let up, stroking him through his release, draining every drop from his pulsing, leaking shaft. It is not until Tobio is making pitiful whines in his throat that Oikawa releases him.

He lifts himself off Tobio, closing his eyes briefly to compose himself. He is in that odd space right between satisfaction and unfulfillment. When he feels the tentative touch of fingers on the waistband of his pants, Oikawa’s eyes open and he grips Tobio’s wrist to stop him.

“Oikawa, you…” Tobio begins, then falters. His eyes flick towards the prominent bulge straining through Oikawa’s pants.

“Aa…” Oikawa acknowledges his own neglected arousal with a dry chuckle. He adjusts his pants. “You don’t have to.” And that’s the way it should be. They’re stuck in this situation because they were both overcome by baser desires that defy logic and reasoning. Now that some sense has returned to Oikawa, it doesn’t feel right somehow to demand anything in return from Tobio.

“But…” Tobio frowns. “I should…”

“No,” Oikawa cuts him off, putting an end to the debate. They have crossed a line here, and he has no idea if this would be the start of some irrevocable change in their relationship.

They clean up as quickly as they can, Oikawa doing most of it really. Tobio is moving like a drowsy kitten, blinking blearily at Oikawa’s instructions, almost stumbling over himself. Oikawa helps the ravaged boy look presentable to the world again, smoothing down his ruffled hair, straightening his attire, pausing only when he is pulling up Tobio’s collar to hide the ungodly array of hickeys on his neck.

“You’re an animal,” Tobio is turning very red.

“I didn’t hear you complain just now. In fact,” Oikawa continues blithely. “You were so busy screaming my name while I was – ” he chuckles when his hands are batted away by a furiously-blushing Tobio.

“I _hate_ you,” Tobio says with feeling. He turns to open the door and leave.

Oikawa doesn’t quite realise he’s moving until he has reached out and grabbed Tobio. He tugs the boy back to him, seizes him by the chin, and crushes his lips in a brutal kiss. When he is done, Tobio is breathless, hands twisted into Oikawa’s shirt.

“ _Good_ ,” Oikawa breathes against Tobio’s panting mouth. “Something to remember me by, Tobio-chan.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Arms encircle him, one bracing around his chest, and the other sliding into his waistband. Firm, full lips against his own. The musk of the Alpha enveloping him in a safe, sensuous cocoon. Something to remember me by, Tobio-chan._

Kageyama startles awake, eyes flying open. Unseeingly, his head turns this way and that way, the damp haziness of heat and arousal clouding his mind. How long has he been sleeping? After training in the morning, he’s taken the rest of the day off to hole himself up in his own apartment and ride out the worst of his heat.

Then his head drops and he gasps at the sharp needles of pain flaring across his brain. His body feels raw and inflamed. All his nerves are ringing with sensation. Even the bedsheets, smooth against his shaking fists, grate against his skin. And he is _aroused_. He can no longer ignore it. His cock is swelling rapidly, leaking from the tip and straining against his briefs. There is wetness deep between his ass too, his body’s own way of preparing him to be fucked and claimed.

A helpless groan squeeze from Kageyama’s throat. When was the last time his heat has been this intense? Not since his encounter with Oikawa. _No._ What is happening here? All throughout his schooling life, Kageyama has known on a sort of unconscious level, that Oikawa is attractive. But Kageyama has never actually been _attracted_ to him…has he?

 _Has he?_ Kageyama takes a deep, shaky breath. The very sobering possibility of his more-than-platonic attraction to Oikawa spares him several seconds of lucidity. It’s just enough for him to drag his leadened limbs out of the bed. Another white flash of pleasure-pain almost buckles his knees.

Gritting his teeth, he stumbles his way into the bathroom. He half-collapses against the wall, the tiles cool against his burning skin. With one hand, he flicks the dial and icy water cascades over him. He barely feels the cold. Hands unsteady, he struggles out of his clothes. The heat is still consuming him, all of it leading straight to his erection.

Defeated, he keeps one arm braced against the wall, as he reaches between his legs with the other. The touch of his own hand around his fully-hard cock brings both relief and frustration. It isn’t enough. But he’s losing his mind from needing release and he has to deal with it right now. He begins to stroke himself. Quickly, roughly, familiar enough with his own flesh to know where to squeeze to climax. Pleasure mounts swiftly in his body, all his senses contracting to a single point. Then he is coming, hard and fast, biting down on his braced arm to stifle his cries.

When it is over, he turns, back to wall, and slides down until he is folded into his arms and legs. The sense of satisfaction that should accompany his orgasm does not manifest. Unlike his last heat, when Oikawa was _there_ with him.

Miserably, he closes his eyes, allowing the million pin-pricks of water to wash over him and bring him brief respite.

++++++++++

Most people probably would not believe it, but this little group of theirs is quite comfortable. It is highly unusual, perhaps. After all, who would expect Yamaguchi, Sugawara and Kageyama to meet for coffee? Yet, well, here they are. That they are the Omegas in the Karasuno team is no coincidence, naturally. That is the main reason for these meet-ups, and why they have continued even after Yamaguchi and Kageyama have graduated from Karasuno High. Omegas in competitive sports are a minority, and whether contrived or not, a support network still has its merits.

But even as Omegas go, all three of them are strikingly different from one another.

Sugawara is the very definition of stability. No matter if experiencing the lowest of lows, or the highest peaks of excitement, he always has both feet firmly grounded. Quite on the contrary, Kageyama is anything but balanced. The fact that he is somehow an Omega is a revelation in itself. Yamaguchi still remembers the moment the Karasuno team found out. That day, Kageyama’s heat had struck so suddenly that Ukai-sensei had to stop the practice to boot most of the team out of the court, while Sugawara and Yamaguchi dragged the half-unconscious Kageyama to the shower stalls. That was also two days after their Inter-high match against Aoba Johsai. Kageyama’s heat has never been particularly stable since and suppressants are hit-or-miss.

Yamaguchi just watches the two of them, basking in the familiarity and nostalgia of the company of his former teammates. Sometimes he thinks it is a pity that Tsukki isn’t part of this little group, but most times, he enjoys it for what it is. Even right this moment, Sugawara and Kageyama are demonstrating their contrasting selves in the clearest way possible.

Sugawara is chatting animatedly about the classes he is taking in college, and about how he is beating Daichi in some of them, because Daichi is a topic that always comes up somehow when he talks. Kageyama is listening attentively, but his responses are mostly limited to either nods or shakes of his head. There’s something about him that feels a little off. Over the years, Yamaguchi has learnt to tell the difference between a Kageyama who is obsessing over some aspect of volleyball, and one who is genuinely troubled.

“What’s eating you, Kageyama?” Sugawara asks suddenly, having also picked up on the younger man’s unusual silence.

“Huh?” Kageyama blinks, eyes widening, as his mind is abruptly dragged back to the present.

“What are you thinking about?” Sugawara presses him, peering into Kageyama’s face as though he is trying to read his thoughts. His chirpy smile turns a little sly as he continues, “Or _who_ are you thinking about?”

Kageyama looks away with a scowl. “I’m not thinking of anyone.”

“Which only means you are!” Sugawara grins triumphantly. “So, who is it? _Who is it?_ ”

Yamaguchi leans forward on his elbows, his own interest piqued by the situation. Kageyama has gained a sort of reputation in the volleyball circle as a desirable but ultimately indomitable Omega. There had been Alpha players who tried courting him, but all were unsuccessful. Over time, many people in the industry actually forgot Kageyama’s secondary gender and thought of him as simply a volleyball player. Yamaguchi knows that works out better for Kageyama’s career, that his Omega status never gets in the way of his ability, but it also can be a little lonely at times.

If Kageyama actually has a potential partner in his life now…that is _very_ intriguing indeed.

“Nobody!” Kageyama sputters, recoiling from his overly-concerned and horribly-nosy former senior who has no concept of privacy whatsoever.

Sugawara crosses his arms disapprovingly. “It’s not nice to lie to your senior, Kageyama.”

“I’m not – I’m not lying!”

“You are too!”

Yamaguchi laughs as he watches his friends devolve into a juvenile argument. If people are eavesdropping on their conversation, no one would believe they are all past their adolescent years.

“Is it Miya Atsumu?” Sugawara guesses, absolutely refusing to let it rest.

“ _No_.”

“Huh. He’s been wanting to fuck you for ages.”

Kageyama chokes on his coffee. Yamaguchi looks around nervously to make sure no one is actually listening to the shit coming out of their senior’s mouth.

“Then, Ushijima?”

“No!”

“Oh my god, is it someone on our – ”

Kageyama just _looks_ at Sugawara. “Karasuno is family. I would _never_ – ”

“All right, all right,” Sugawara finally decides to have mercy on the red-faced Kageyama. “You’re too easy, _Tobio-chan_.”

At that, a strange expression flashes across Kageyama’s face. A mix of embarrassment, frustration and longing…? But it is gone in an instant. “Don’t call me that,” Kageyama mutters, shoulders shifting the way they do whenever he is uncomfortable.

Yamaguchi and Sugawara share a look.

Carefully, Sugawara clears his throat. “You know, Kageyama. You don’t have to wait,” he says, picking his words cautiously because Kageyama can be easily spooked. “I mean, society now is not like before. There is no need to let the Alpha take his damned time to realise he wants you. You can make the first move.”

That actually makes Kageyama think. Even Yamaguchi can see the wheels turning in Kageyama’s brain, and he hopes to high heaven that Kageyama won’t be idiotic enough to ask about Sugawara and Daichi.

“Like you and Daichi?” Kageyama blurts.

Well, fuck.

“Yup!” Sugawara clicks his fingers. “Just like me and Daichi. Really, if I had hung around waiting for that man to come to his senses, I’d _die_ of frustration. You have no idea the kind of lengths I went to, to get him into bed. But once he got it, every time my heat starts, he’d – ”

“ _Okay_ , I got it,” Kageyama cuts him off, looking pained by all that information that he really didn’t need to know. He makes a show of checking his mobile phone for the time. “I need to go,” he murmurs.

Outside the café, they realise that it is late in the afternoon. Already the first veils of deep violet are unfurling across the setting sky. The three of them tentatively set a date in the near-future to meet again to catch up with everything going on in their lives. They then wave goodbye to Kageyama, who is walking away with the purposeful stride of someone on a mission. At least he is no longer as troubled as before.

As they stare after Kageyama’s retreating figure, Sugawara breaks the silence with a laugh. “No prizes for guessing who Kageyama’s crushing on.”

Yamaguchi sighs wryly. “He’s just too obvious, senpai.”

“Funny it took him this long.”

++++++++++

Kageyama does not know exactly what he is doing, if he is being honest with himself. After bidding farewell to Sugawara and Yamaguchi, he just let himself follow his instincts and they have led him here.

The gymnasium where the Panthers train at. He is none too familiar with the club beyond its most recent win-loss record and its current position on the league table, but he _does_ know they have acquired a new setter. According to the grapevine, the man was a former high-school star with a killer serve and the ability to coax the best out of every player on his team. Vastly-talented and highly-popular with the fans too.

Kageyama makes his way to the spectator stands that overlook the volleyball court. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to pick out the Panthers’ setter. He’d recognise Oikawa’s lithe, athletic figure and wild brown hair anywhere. As if hearing Kageyama’s thoughts, Oikawa completes a service ace, and flashes a charming grin at the watching crowd. Around Kageyama, females – and males – respond eagerly with their excited waves and giggles.

Well, some things haven’t changed since high-school, then. The hordes of fans that have always followed Oikawa around are still around. Kageyama glances at them with some discomfort. He is not a complete idiot. He knows that Oikawa is considered very handsome, beautiful even. But even then, he does not quite understand the whole appeal of being part of a crazed fanclub for _anyone_.

Then again…then again, he’s also _here_ staring obsessively at Oikawa, isn’t he?

Kageyama shifts in his seat and pulls the cap lower over his face. What _is_ he doing, really?

“…yeah, it looks like him.”

“Pretty sure it is!”

Awareness outside volleyball has never been Kageyama’s strength. So it takes a _while_ for him to finally notice that the tittering and chattering around him are directed at _him_. And by then, a couple of spectators are already none-too-discreetly trying to peer at his face from under the cap. Kageyama freezes in his seat. What’s happening?

“You’re Kageyama Tobio, aren’t you?” someone asks him.

Kageyama feels his face begin to heat up. “Y-yeah…” he answers truthfully because he doesn’t know what else to say. He looks away but there is another person who has abruptly taken the seat next to him.

“Hey, everyone says you look so fierce. But you’re pretty cute too!”

Kageyama feels ill. Unlike the last time he was the object of unwanted attention, he is not in heat right now. Why are strangers so forward these days? Why are they always pointing out things about him that are irrelevant? He is not _cute_. What a stupid word. He is an _excellent_ volleyball player and that’s all there is to it. Also, he is attracting way too much attention than is necessary. Disguises never seem to work the way he expects them to.

On the courts below, the Panthers players are taking a water break, and some are looking up curiously at the stands to check out the commotion.

Hurriedly getting to his feet, Kageyama decides that staying is no longer an option. Not when he is drawing a mini-crowd of his own. He has to _leave_ before the entire Panthers team notices his presence. Just as he is going to turn and bolt, he sees Oikawa staring up –

Right _at_ him.

Kageyama’s breath catches in his throat. The initial surprise on Oikawa’s face recedes swiftly, replaced by a very familiar, almost-predatory curl of his lips. That is all it takes for Kageyama’s mind to dredge up memories of hungry lips and teeth at his neck, cunning hands working between his legs to rouse his pleasure feverishly higher. Most significantly, he remembers the feeling of utter _satiation_ afterwards.

That was more than two months ago, and it feels like yesterday.

They stare at each other, not quite in full understanding, yet more than just cursory acknowledgement. At length, Oikawa’s gaze flick towards the exit sign of the gymnasium, before he turns back towards his waiting teammates.

Heart thumping irrationally hard, Kageyama excuses himself from the stands. He finds himself in a quiet corner away from the main lobby area outside the gymnasium. It’ll give him some space away from the public.

He has no idea how long he waited. Perhaps for an hour or so, he stares out into the night-scape from this side of the city. He’s never really been here before. It’s a wonder at all he managed to arrive at this gymnasium without getting lost. Just when he is starting to feel the bite from the night chill, he senses Oikawa behind him. The distinct scent of Oikawa and the way his footfalls sound across the ground are enough to inform him.

Kageyama turns and out of sheer reflex, catches the can lobbed at his chest. He peers down at it, mildly perplexed to see that it is beer, and not yoghurt.

“It’s a night for beer,” Oikawa says with a casual shrug. He is freshly showered, the crisp overtones of warm linen and soap intermingling with his own muskier scent. The leather jacket he is wearing accentuates the sharp lines of his figure.

Kageyama feels under-dressed in his simple t-shirt and jeans. But then, most people would somehow look ordinary next to Oikawa.

“Well?” Oikawa asks pointedly. “Where are we going?”

“I…I don’t know,” Kageyama confesses. It’s taken him a fair amount of courage to even show up at Oikawa’s training session. He hasn’t yet figured out what he _really_ wants out of this meeting.

Oikawa rolls his eyes dramatically. “Do I always have to do the thinking for you, Tobio? Come on.” He turns and beckons for Kageyama to follow.

They end up in a public playground that has seen better days. The colourful swings creak. Worn-down see-saws rest on tattered shock-absorbers. Still, there is a certain charm to it all. Kageyama is no poet or anything. It’s just that the playground reminds him of his childhood days. And from the way Oikawa fondly brushes a hand over the robot-themed slide, this place probably holds the same nostalgia for him.

They sit themselves on the swings. Oikawa takes several large gulps of his beer before tossing it into the trash-bin. Frowning, Kageyama looks down at his own can. Ignoring the reminder from his brain that this beverage is not milk-related, he takes a long sip of it. The bitterness makes him wince. Why does Oikawa like this drink? He sneaks a glance at Oikawa. Despite the artificial, fluorescent glare from the street-lamps, Oikawa’s profile is chiselled and the focus in his eyes sharp as ever.

Kageyama quickly looks away, pissed at himself for caring about other people’s appearances. His head is buzzing and he wonders if it is from the beer.

“So, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa says, not looking at Kageyama. His expression is guarded. “I thought we’re done after that last time. Why are you here?”

A gamut of possible responses pops up in Kageyama’s mind. Some are more diplomatic than others. Yet if he uses any of those, try to be evasive and all, Oikawa would see right through him and what would even be the point of this meeting, then?

So he opts for the least complicated one. “To talk.”

It catches Oikawa off-guard. He turns his head sharply. “What for?” he says, keeping his tone deliberately light and uncaring. “Wait – are you in heat again?”

“No!” Kageyama blanches. “Why do I have to be in heat to want to see you again?”

Okay, so that last line is entirely unplanned. It just…came _out_ of his mouth without warning. Oikawa slowly raises an eyebrow at him, and if there is a hole in the ground, any hole, Kageyama would bury himself in it.

“Holy shit, are you in love with me, Tobio-chan~~?” Oikawa crows in a disturbing, sing-song manner.

“No, I’m not!” Kageyama replies hotly but it’s futile.

Oikawa looks disgustingly pleased with himself, and somehow more devastatingly handsome than he already is. “Aww, that’s so flattering, Tobio-chan! I should take a video of this.”

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Kageyama sputters several threats about destroying Oikawa’s mobile phone if it makes any appearance. Just how did the conversation end up in this direction? Scowling at nothing, he grits his teeth and bears it as Oikawa begins guffawing in earnest. Then, he bears it some more until Oikawa’s cackling subsides.

Silence reigns yet again, somehow a little less heavy than it was before.

Kageyama takes a deep breath to gather himself. There is something he has been wanting to say for some time now, but just never got around to it like he should have. Well, it’s now or never. He opens his mouth –

“I apologise for – ”

“I’m sorry, you know, I – .”

They say at the same time.

Kageyama blinks stupidly, unsure about how to proceed. There is the faintest trace of red on Oikawa’s cheeks, and he is sure his own face looks the same.

“What – ” Oikawa gestures gruffly. He’s never been great at dealing with sentimentality. “What are you apologising for?”

“Junior high. I didn’t know what it was like for you,” Kageyama says in a single breath, profoundly relieved he did not trip over his words like he usually would have. There is a whole list of things he is apologetic about, and that one is the first on the list.

“Oh,” Oikawa’s eyes are wide. It takes him a long time to digest Kageyama’s words. A good moment later, he sighs and waves one hand brusquely. “There was a lot of angst and pride back then,” he admits. “I mean, when you’re fifteen, everything’s bigger or worse than it really is.” A too-long pause. “I did almost hit you when you were a kid,” he ends very quietly.

Kageyama shrugs. “You were a kid too.” He didn’t understand it back then, how an innocent request of his could trigger such a violent reaction from Oikawa. Now, however, he gets it. He really does.

“How would you have reacted, Tobio? If I had hit you?” Oikawa sounds genuinely curious.

“Punch you back harder,” Kageyama smirks. Oikawa is not the only one with a temper here.

Oikawa’s lips lift in a smile – a real one that reaches his eyes. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Is _that_ what you’re sorry for?” Somehow Kageyama has the feeling that their childhood altercation is not the issue bugging Oikawa here.

Oikawa runs a hand exasperatedly through his tousled hair, looking for all the world to be in the midst of an intense internal debate with himself. When Kageyama doesn’t stop _looking_ at him, he shakes his head in defeat. “I’m sorry for taking advantage of you when you weren’t thinking straight. For – for taking your innocence.”

“I can’t believe that just came outta your mouth.”

“Yeah, neither can I!”

“But I kissed you first.”

“You were in _heat_. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I knew.”

“Say what now?” Oikawa responds intelligently.

This awkward talk is very awkward.

Kageyama swallows around the lump in his throat. He knows he is going to have to explain himself at some point, but that doesn’t make the task any easier. “I knew what I was doing,” he repeats, casting his eyes on the ground. He really doesn’t want to look at Oikawa right now just in case all the words refuse to come out of his mouth. “The heat raises _arousal_ levels and removes _inhibitions_. It doesn’t affect _cog-cognition_.” Fuck all this scientific blah-blah for being so hard to articulate. “I – I kissed you because – ” _Just say it, Kageyama Tobio._ “Because it was _you_. And I’m not – I’m not sorry for that.”

The silence that stretches on after his confession is tensed and fragile at once. They are both treading on very new and very precarious ground.

Kageyama’s hands twist into his jeans, white-knuckled. He’s said something wrong, hasn’t he? Would Oikawa hate him any more than he already does? Vaguely, he senses Oikawa getting up from his swing and striding towards him. Maybe this is the part where he _does_ get hit by Oikawa.

“Look at me, Tobio.”

Snapping his head up, Kageyama stares up at Oikawa, who is looming over him with his hands braced on the chains of Kageyama’s swing. For several heartbeats, Oikawa’s expression is inscrutable as he searches Kageyama’s face for something that only he knows.

“Do you understand what it means to be _with_ me, Tobio?” Oikawa says finally. His eyes are intense. “I’m not fucking around here. I can be a selfish bastard and I say the worst shit. I’m not nice. And I don’t _share_ what belongs to me. Do you know what that means?”

Kageyama meets his gaze head-on. “I know. I’m not perfect either. Actually – actually I’m really far from perfect. I don’t know much other than volleyball. People think I’m an idiot.”

The beginnings of a smile are starting to light up Oikawa’s face. “What do you want, Tobio?”

“You.”

“You _are_ an idiot,” Oikawa tells Kageyama even as he cups his chin with one hand.

“What do you mean?” Kageyama tries to sound pissed, but it really amounts to nothing when Oikawa’s thumb begins stroking over his cheek. It takes all his will not to lean into the caress.

“Takes one to know one, I guess,” Oikawa acknowledges wryly. “Now shut up.”

Kageyama’s eyes slip shut as he is kissed. It feels like the last time they had kissed, and yet it is different somehow. The uncertainty is gone now, and taking its place is the glowing realisation of mutual attraction. The kiss starts gentle, careful, then Kageyama hears the growl in Oikawa’s throat, and that is all the warning he gets. Hands curl into the front of Kageyama’s t-shirt to haul him to his feet, and Oikawa deepens the kiss, stealing Kageyama’s every breath. When Kageyama gasps, Oikawa’s tongue thrusts into his mouth, sliding possessively over the warm folds within, until Kageyama is light-headed and pushing unsteadily at Oikawa’s chest. Oikawa finally lets him go then, pulling away just enough to appraise him.

“You liked that,” Oikawa’s grin is very smug. That is the Alpha in him rearing its head.

“Maybe,” Kageyama counters, even as he’s practically panting from that kiss. He is also dicing with danger a little here. He knows what Oikawa is like as a volleyball player and rival, but as an Alpha, that is still unknown territory. Their encounter ten weeks ago was merely a taste, a promise of what could be.

“Maybe?” There is a feral edge to Oikawa’s tone now. His arm loops sensuously around Kageyama’s waist to close all distance between their bodies. Tilting his head, he nuzzles into the skin below Kageyama’s ear. “Guess I’ll have to be more convincing, hmm?”

Kageyama shivers wretchedly from that caress. Oikawa is discovering weak spots on his body that he doesn’t even know exist. “I have…tr-training tomorrow.”

“Well, then you can’t be late. Better go home and rest, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa smacks him smartly on one ass-cheek. Grinning incorrigibly, he steps back with his hands raised, all gentleman-like.

Kageyama has the feeling he has just been horribly teased, and that this is something he’d have to deal with from now on, because Oikawa is infuriating in that way. At any rate, he does have to return to his own apartment. This may have been a most unusual night for both of them, but the next day, life still goes on. The difference is that, now, there is a _next time_ to look forward to, and the comforting knowledge that their present encounter is not their last.

Oikawa watches him leave.

When Kageyama turns his head, just to see if he has somehow imagined the whole meeting, he finds Oikawa leaning against the swing, wearing a half-pensive, half-amused expression on his face. Kageyama hesitates for a second, then makes up his mind.

“What – ?” Oikawa says, startled to see Kageyama marching back towards him. His gaze widens as hands grasp his cheeks and he is pulled into a kiss.

“Something to remember me by.”

A smirk tugs at Oikawa’s lips at the recognition of his own words. “Aa. I’ll see you soon, Tobio-chan.”


	3. Chapter 3

Kageyama puts away the bottle that he always carries with him. He’s already taken the prescribed dosage of suppressants. Still, as he steps out of his shower stall and into the midst of his teammates, he has to mentally steady himself for the assault of smells all around him.

The gymnasium changing room before a match has always been something of a monumental challenge during his heats. Adrenaline, testosterone, and that constant thrum of electrifying energy in the atmosphere. It does not help that most of his teammates are Alphas and Betas, with their overpowering musk. The only other Omega is the sweet-faced Sokolov – who also stands at six feet seven and only dumbasses would dare to mess with him.

“You ready, Kage?” Sokolov greets him cheerfully in his accented Japanese.

Kageyama doesn’t mind the mangling of his name. In a team with different nationalities, he’s gotten used to most variations of his name. _Tobio-chan_ is off-limits, for reasons. “I may not play today,” he says matter-of-factly. He has yet to displace the starting setter from the team and the only way to do it is to prove himself consistently. But if he _does_ get a chance today, he would seize it with both hands and you’ll have to pry it out of his dead, lifeless fingers.

Sokolov regards him carefully, then lowers his voice. “What about your heat?”

Kageyama fidgets in embarrassment. Openly discussing this with an Adlers teammate, even another Omega, is still a new experience for him. “I’m okay,” he says with minimal faltering. “I took the pills. It’s under control.”

“Hmm,” Sokolov nods sagely, like he isn’t only four years older than Kageyama. Quickly looking around to make sure everyone else is busy with their own conversations, he dips his head and winks at Kageyama. “Tell your Alpha to go easy on you, eh? We only have a four-day break before the next practice.”

Kageyama flushes red right down to the roots of his feet. But before he can counter with a comeback about Sokolov fucking their team captain, the coach’s voice rings out, calling them to attention.

“We’re going to win, Kageyama,” Sokolov tells him, his eyes serious now, readying himself for the battle ahead.

Straightening his back, Kageyama nods, squares his shoulders, and takes his place among the players.

++++++++++

“Ah there’s Kageyama on the bench! Look at him. He’s all grown-up.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen him in such a long time. I just met him last – oi, _Kageyama_! Your beloved seniors are here to see you!”

“Maybe we should have bought those clappers to cheer for him.”

“No worries. We’ll do that when we go see Hinata and the Jackals play.”

Yamaguchi just laughs along to at all the commotion that his former seniors are making. It’s a rare occasion that all three of Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi can make it to volleyball matches these days. Beside him, Tsukki however, is less than impressed.

“Wow,” Tsukishima intones flatly. “You guys are behaving like a bunch of elderly citizens. Is this premature ageing, I wonder?”

Without missing a beat, Sugawara flashes a saccharine smile at the younger man. “Careful, now, Tsukishima. We may turn up at one of your college matches.”

Tsukishima just rolls his eyes delicately, but he does shut up because there is a very real possibility that Sugawara would carry out his threat. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he looks down at the courts with renewed interest. “Ahh, the arrival of the king.”

Quite unexpectedly, the Adlers’ number-one setter has to retire halfway through the match with an ankle injury. The substitute setter, barely twenty-years-old but brimming with confidence beyond his years, takes his place on the court and gets ready to serve. He takes a deep breath, times his approach to perfection, and leaps in a graceful arc.

A jump _float_ serve. It spins off the opposing receiver’s arm and it’s ball out.

Yamaguchi feels like a proud mother crow. Looks like the tips he’s given Kageyama to fine-tune that one actually paid off. Around them, the Adlers fans are going wild. Tsukki’s right. Kageyama Tobio _has_ arrived.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones interested in the match,” Sugawara pipes up suddenly. He is gazing up at the topmost row of the spectator stands.

It takes minimal effort to recognise the man seated there. The spectacles and nondescript clothes do very little to disguise his identity, or diminish the _aura_ around him. That’s the best word to describe the sort of presence that Oikawa Tooru has.

“Interested in the match – or _Kageyama_?” Tsukishima snorts.

Yamaguchi blinks. “You know?” So much for Kageyama swearing him and Sugawara to secrecy about the whole Oikawa thing.

“I’m not blind or stupid,” comes the arch reply. Some things just don’t change.

Well, then.

++++++++++

It is late night when Oikawa gets back to his rented apartment. It’s recently refurbished. New coat of paint. A second closet. Bigger bed. Larger refrigerator. Basically everything has been re-adjusted to accommodate a regular house-guest. Things have not always gone well, especially at the beginning with arguments over the most trivial issues, but now a sense of familiarity has settled in. Also, Oikawa has gotten addicted to waking up with a warm body curled into him.

He takes a look at the clock, noting the time. Just before nine. Leaving the match early has its merits. He gets to beat the crowd to the train station, and he has time to absorb all that he has observed. That little brat has been practising his jump floats and somehow, Oikawa has missed it. Well, there’ll be plenty of grilling later on.

He throws open the refrigerator to check out its contents. There are all that professional athletes would need – plenty of nutrient-rich carbohydrates and lean protein sources. And then there’s the degenerate corner where proper food goes to die. Oikawa stares at said corner of milk and yoghurt drinks, vexed that half of them are bought by none other than himself. Making sure that they never run out of gun-gun gurt has somehow become a lifestyle, holy fucking hell.

 _He’ll need it later_ , the Alpha part of Oikawa’s brain reminds him helpfully. He takes a quick glance at the magnetised calendar on the fridge door. The sight of the crossed date makes Oikawa’s insides clench and grow warm. The cycle starts today.

He showers, dresses himself casually, and is just shaking out the water from his hair, when he hears the key turning in the door. Vaguely, he wonders what kind of mood Tobio is going to be in. The brat is particularly unpredictable during his heat.

The door opens just as Oikawa lounges back comfortably against the sofa-bed. This particular piece of furniture had been Tobio’s decision, and Oikawa had found the latter sprawled out fast asleep on it on several occasions. Tobio steps into the apartment, and Oikawa admires the steel-blue top and black jeans that he has picked out for Tobio. They complement his eyes perfectly.

“I went for some drinks with the others,” Tobio says, sounding a little tired, but otherwise composed. The suppressants are still doing their job. “They’re so _noisy_.” There is as much peevishness as affection in his complaint.

The _others_ are the former Karasuno players, naturally. Oikawa can imagine the amount of fussing they would have lavished on Kageyama. Earlier, he was mildly rattled to see nearly the entire gang of crows trooping into the spectator stands, but figured quickly it would work in his favour. They were the reason why Oikawa didn’t deem it necessary to accompany Tobio home after the match. If nothing else, they would make sure a heat-struck Tobio gets home without a scratch on him.

“Please tell me you actually drank something nice,” Oikawa lectures, eyeing the little tantalising gap where Tobio’s t-shirt has ridden up his waist. He’ll do something about _that_ in a bit.

“Sake.”

Oikawa wrinkles his nose. That is not something that he particularly enjoys. “What kind of sake?”

“Taste it for yourself.”

It takes Oikawa a split-second to realise that Tobio is _flirting_ with him, and then he gets an armful of purposeful and demanding Tobio. The boy’s body is _warm_ , and his mouth even more so as his lips part for Oikawa’s tongue to delve inside. Beneath Tobio’s own distinct scent of storm-clouds and unexpected sweetness, he tastes the tangy bite of blackberries and fresh rice wine. Oikawa thinks perhaps he should re-evaluate his opinion of sake, while grasping the back of Tobio’s head to deepen the kiss and plunder more of the boy’s mouth. 

When they separate, foreheads still pressed together, Tobio’s lips are kiss-swollen, and there is a glint of something coy and carnal in his dark eyes. Oikawa finds that _delightful_. Make no mistake. He enjoys Tobio when the boy is shy and blushing from the attention, but also when he is sexually confident like this.

Oikawa slides his hands beneath Tobio’s shirt and begin to caress the feverish skin beneath. He’s discovered quite early that Tobio likes being touched and petted, so long as you do it right. Touching him like _this_ – palms stroking soothingly over his back and chest – works beautifully. Dark lashes flutter as Tobio’s eyes begin to slide close. His body is getting warmer too, heating up by the second as the suppressants begin to wear off.

“Did you win?” Oikawa asks as he presses his face into the crook of Tobio’s neck to inhale his heat scent. He begins branding open-mouthed kisses into the skin, taking care to pay special attention to the fading marks from the last time they had been together, overlaying it with newer blooms of colour.

“Of _course_ ,” Tobio replies, a flash of his usual pride seeping through the groans that he is making. His arms wrap around Oikawa’s shoulders as his head arches back.

“A jump float though?” Even as Oikawa interrogates Tobio, his hands are tugging his shirt up to his underarms, baring his chest and waist. “Why not a topspin?” He punctuates his question with a sharp nip of one sensitive nipple, startling a yelp out of Tobio.

“My…my topspin isn’t as…” Tobio squirms as Oikawa begin mouthing at the same nipple. “Good as yours…I’m not you.”

Oikawa pauses and looks at the younger man. “And you don’t have to be.” He straightens himself, hooks a hand into the waistband of Tobio’s pants and tugs the boy to him. “That jump float was good,” Oikawa admits against Tobio’s lips, and this isn’t flattery or anything. He meant what he said and clearly, Tobio knows it too. He can _feel_ Tobio’s lips curving into a proud grin and he presses a kiss to them. “Got the attention of everyone in the stands.”

“Got yours.”

Taken by surprise, Oikawa chuckles. The little crow is growing up and giving as good as he gets. “Well, you have my full attention now,” he kisses Tobio again. “What do you want with it?” And another kiss.

The flush on Tobio’s face begins to creep down his neck. No matter that this isn’t their first time in bed, he hasn’t fully shaken off his bashfulness. “Suck me…? I want to come in your mouth.” The way he so shyly says that is entirely at odds with the pure filth of his words, and Oikawa lives for it.

Planting a hand on Tobio’s chest, he shoves the Omega back onto the sofa bed. There’s no gentleness in this. For hours now, Oikawa has carefully kept his desire in check, but now, he is more than ready to take what he wants. Tobio’s wide-eyed gaze of both apprehension and anticipation is blatant seduction, and the fact that Tobio is unaware of it just makes this all the sweeter.

Moving efficiently and with little ceremony, Oikawa undoes Tobio’s pants. Grasping both the waistband and underwear beneath, he drags them roughly down Tobio’s legs, baring great expanses of lean, bronzed flesh as he does so. He places a hand on each of Tobio’s thighs, pushing them as far as they can go with the pants still trapped around the boy’s calves. It draws a soft noise from Tobio and a reflexive twitch of his legs, as if he wants to bring them together to cover his nakedness. Oikawa doesn’t allow him to hide, holding down Tobio’s thighs and keeping them spread apart.

Now he stares down at Tobio’s body, relishing the sight of this arrogant boy-wonder of a volleyball player, all laid out so prettily for his viewing pleasure. If only Tobio can _see_ himself now. Near-naked, his nipples erect, stomach quivering, and between his muscled thighs, his cock lays thick and heavy against his groin. Already pre-come is leaking from the swollen, reddened tip, as if it’s begging to be sucked. The Omega looks delicious enough to _devour_.

Mesmerised, Oikawa leans forward and grasps the base of that needy cock. He fondles it, marvelling at how hard and slippery it feels. “You’re so wet already, Tobio.” He bends his head and makes a show of sliding his tongue over the tip, lapping up the heady, intoxicating taste of an Omega in heat. “Look at me,” Oikawa commands him in a tone that brooks no argument.

Obediently, Tobio rises unsteadily to his elbows. His eyes lock onto Oikawa’s waiting gaze, and Oikawa makes sure he is watching as he sucks the head of Tobio’s erection into his mouth. Tobio whimpers at the sudden sensation, his noises growing louder as Oikawa slowly works the rest of his painfully-hard cock into his throat. Then, he pulls off, and begins the rhythm all over again, his head bobbing lewdly between Tobio’s thighs with each drag of his lips.

Beneath him, Tobio is writhing and moaning, pinned to the sofa by Oikawa’s weight, and his legs trapped by the pants. Unable to thrust up into Oikawa’s cunning mouth, he can only lie there, taking sobbing breaths as his erection is squeezed and sucked with wet, exquisite pleasure. His hands scrabble uselessly at the fabric of the sofa as his climax nears, yet he is kept teetering on the edge, unable to come.

“Oikawa…please… _please_ …”

Oikawa ignores the boy’s pleading, knowing that the longer Tobio is made to wait, the more satisfied he would be afterward. He brings one hand between Tobio’s buttocks, fingers groping for the hidden treasure he knows is there. _There it is._ One finger finds the tiny furl of muscle deep within. It’s so wet there too; Tobio’s body already readying itself to be ravaged. Oikawa works his fingers inside, amazed at how tight Tobio still is, even in heat. Picking up the pace, he plunges his fingers in and out of Tobio in time with each torturous slide of his mouth over Tobio’s cock.

Above him, Tobio is growing incoherent. His hips are making helpless little jerks that grow steadily more erratic. Blindly, his hands begin to yank at Oikawa’s hair to warn him. “I’m going to…I’m…”

Instead of releasing Tobio’s cock, Oikawa sucks him even harder and faster, getting drunk off the thick, roiling scent of sex and arousal emanating from the Omega, until he feels the hot flesh in his mouth begin to pulse. He swallows greedily, taking all that Tobio has to give. To either side of his head, Tobio’s thighs are shaking, and his hands begin to push weakly at Oikawa’s head, making little mewling sounds when Oikawa continues to suck on his oversensitised flesh until he has milked every last drop from it.

Oikawa pulls away then, rearing back to gaze down with a sort of dark fascination at the _state_ the Omega is in. Limbs askew, eyes glazed over, chest rising and falling rapidly with each panting breath, his cock glistening with fluids and still half-erect even after his orgasm.

It’s a good look on him, Oikawa decides, his own desire rising aggressively to the forefront of his mind. Oikawa removes his own clothes. He can feel Tobio’s eyes following him and Oikawa lets him look all he wants. He’s never been one to be shy about his own body. While he isn’t as heavily-muscled as some athletes, he’s broad and ripped enough to more than hold his own against other Alphas. Sighing, he takes his own swelling arousal in his hand, stroking it to full hardness.

Tobio’s gaze is dark with hunger as it flickers from Oikawa’s cock, and back up to his face.

“Turn over,” Oikawa tells him, his words sounding more like a growl than anything else.

Holding Oikawa’s stare, Tobio kicks off his pants and slips out of his t-shirt. Entirely bared now, he gets onto all fours, bracing his weight on his hands and knees. His movements are hesitant at first, then grow surer as he spreads his knees wide, opening himself up for Oikawa. He turns his head to look at Oikawa over one shoulder, and he’s never looked more sultry than he does at that moment.

“Inside me,” Tobio says quietly.

Which Alpha would say no to _that_? Like a moth drawn to a flame, Oikawa climbs onto the sofa bed behind Tobio. Taking the Omega by the hips, he hauls Tobio further back, then slides his palms over the firm swells of Tobio’s ass. Oikawa kneads rough handfuls of it, before digging his thumbs into the cleft and spreading his ass-cheeks apart to reveal the fluttering, vulnerable hole inside. It is loosened and reddened from earlier. So ripe and _ready_ for Oikawa’s cock.

Tobio makes a strangled moan, his head dropping so his face is hidden against his arm. No doubt he is aware of just how indecent he looks right now. Oikawa teases him, sliding three fingers inside him and twisting them around to feel the slickness in Tobio’s passage, until protests spill from Tobio’s lips.

That is as far as Oikawa’s control can go. Lining his engorged cock up with Tobio’s entrance, he pushes in, feeling Tobio’s body trembling. The head of his shaft pops free and he flexes into the Omega just an inch. Guttural groans reverberated from both of them, Oikawa with the strain of holding himself _still_ , and Tobio trying to ease into the pleasure-pain of penetration. Still, Oikawa waits, gnawing on his lip, the all-consuming need to rut swiftly overwhelming his consciousness, until Tobio nods wordlessly. Oikawa seats himself further in, his mind fast unravelling at the sight of his cock being swallowed up by Tobio’s body.

Then he feels Tobio pushing back against him. Groaning, Oikawa plunges in until he is fully sheathed inside Tobio. He closes his eyes, reining back the ravenous urge to mindlessly ravish the sweet body under his. Yet he snaps them open a moment after when he feels a hand smacking him sharply on his flank.

“ _Move_ ,” Tobio’s normally deep voice is strained but there is no mistaking the temper in it. “Move, dammit. I’m not going to break. Either fuck me or – ”

Laughing incredulously, Oikawa leans down, grasps Tobio by the hair and yanks his head back. He nips the Omega’s ear. “Or what?” he snarls, flexing his hips and grinding into Tobio with tight, maddening circles.

“Or I’ll do it _myself_ ,” Tobio snaps back at him, then loses all his menace when he whimpers at the feel of Oikawa’s shaft grazing his prostate.

“ _Patience_ ,” Oikawa rumbles in his throat, unsure if he’s admonishing Tobio or himself, because he’s about done with the teasing. He pulls out several inches, then pushes back in, smirking against the Omega’s cheek when the latter cries out. “By the time I’m done with you,” he promises darkly. “You won’t walk for a week.”

He begins to move then – slow, full thrusts at first, so that Tobio can feel every inch of the cock impaling his body, before he gives in and snap his hips hard. The air is heavy with the carnal sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. Oikawa grips the slender waist before him, dragging Tobio back into each brutal thrust. The Omega is moaning ceaselessly now, the sounds muffled against fabric. Arms giving way and, unable to touch himself, Tobio can only hang on, buffeted by the waves of pleasure assaulting his senses. Oikawa has enough coherency left to wrap a hand around Tobio’s neglected arousal. He barely has to stroke it and Tobio is coming again, sobbing and jerking helplessly even as Oikawa is still fucking into him.

His own climax drawing near, Oikawa thrusts several more times, rough and erratic, then his mind shivers to pieces and he is coming, coating the insides of the Omega’s passage with his release. Reacting to pure instinct and the feel of hot, velvet flesh constricting around him, the base of his shaft begins to swell. Oikawa shifts to pull out, but Tobio’s hand is on his thigh.

“I want it,” Tobio says, voice hoarse. He has turned his head so one eye is visible beneath his hair. His gaze is heavy with desire and invitation.

Oikawa snarls deep in his throat at the permission given to him. He leans down, sinking all his weight onto Tobio’s warm, pliant body. Then, he turns them both onto their sides and gathers Tobio into his embrace, back to chest. His mouth finds Tobio’s neck and he bites down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough for his mark to be etched into the skin, reminding every Alpha who sees it that Tobio is _claimed_. Still gripped by Tobio’s hole, Oikawa’s cock swells, thickening and spreading Tobio even wider apart. Strangled moans fell from Tobio’s lips at the sensations flooding his overwrought body. His eyes are squeezed shut, eyelashes dark and wet.

“Shh…you’re okay…” Oikawa whispers against Tobio’s nape, arms and thigh wrapping around the Omega, feeling his shaft finally fully knotted inside Tobio and keeping their bodies locked together. He nuzzles into the boy’s neck, gently mouthing at the salty-sweet skin until they are both lulled into sleep.

++++++++++

When Kageyama wakes up, it is raining outside. He can hear the faraway patter of the early-morning drizzle from beyond the window. He also feels oddly empty now that Oikawa’s knot has receded and withdrawn from his body. This is all very new to him; it’s the first time he’s ever been knotted.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, he untangles himself from Oikawa’s limbs. The older man is sound asleep. Even the dishevelled hair does nothing to mar his fine, chiselled features. He truly is beautiful, Kageyama thinks absently to himself. 

It is not until he tries to stand that the first of numerous aches hit him like a sledgehammer. His neck feels raw and he knows he’s going to look like a vampire victim in a day or two. His ass burns and even his _penis_ feels sore, what the fuck? Then, he remembers the events that had transpired during the night and he still has some modesty left to feel embarrassed. 

Some time after he had fallen asleep, he’d been woken up by Oikawa’s cock rubbing and spurting against his prostate. Coupled with the sensation of being filled to the brim by the knot buried inside him, he was hard yet again. Whispering all sorts of filth into his ear, Oikawa had slid a hand between his thighs to grasp his erection. Kageyama remembers himself shamelessly rutting into Oikawa’s hand as it tugged and kneaded at his cock with aching thoroughness until he came for the third time that night.

Kageyama doesn’t think he’s ever felt so satiated and completely wrung out as he does now. Gingerly, he pulls on Oikawa’s trackpants because there is no way he is struggling into jeans or walking the too-far distance to the bedroom. It hangs precariously on his hips as he pads over to the window.

He pushes the glass panes open and feels the crisp chill of the night air against his heated skin. The scents of the rain and the city reach his nose and he inhales them deeply. He’s always thought the landscape looks more beautiful when viewed through the haziness of street-lamps and drizzling rain.

Behind him, Oikawa is stirring. Kageyama hears him blearily complain about the cold, the wind and _why the hell are you all the way there, Tobio?_ Kageyama doesn’t answer, still transfixed by the sight of rain droplets falling from the skies like millions of tiny, transparent volleyballs. Then, Oikawa gets up and his footfalls head somewhere away from the living room, and back again.

An arm slings around Kageyama and he stares down at the yoghurt drink offered to him. He takes it, feeling no small sense of gratitude. It’s comfort food to him, something that reminds him of home. As he downs the milky sour-sweet liquid, Oikawa’s arms wrap around him from behind and his chin rests on Kageyama’s shoulder. True to nature, Oikawa seems unaffected by the fact that he is entirely nude.

“Iwa-chan says hi. I got his message two days ago. Forgot to tell you,” Oikawa murmurs, still sounding a little sleepy.

“How does he know about me?”

“Whole fucking world knows about you…” Oikawa sounds suspiciously close to laughter. “Oh, Chibi-chan texted me yesterday, you know.” There is _definitely_ amusement in Oikawa’s voice now.

Kageyama snorts. “About what?” He knows that Oikawa and Hinata have one of the most unlikely brotherhood relationships going on. Those two share the same tastes in anime and volleyball players.

“About how I mustn’t be too rough with you before you play the Jackals.”

Kageyama sputters on his drink. “He did _not_.”

Oikawa chortles into Kageyama’s neck. “Yeah, he didn’t. He asked me if I watched the latest episode of ‘Yuri on Ice’.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Kageyama blinks.

“Was I though?”

“What?” Kageyama says, not comprehending.

“Was I too rough?” Oikawa asks, more seriously now, obviously recalling the exertions of the night before.

“No, you weren’t,” Kageyama replies, then rolls his eyes as he feels Oikawa perking up immediately. Even without looking, he knows Oikawa is insufferably pleased with himself.

“No?” Oikawa takes Kageyama’s chin in his fingers to turn his face towards him. There is a mischievous gleam in his brown eyes. “Because I can be very gentle,” he declares, backing up his words with a kiss to Kageyama’s nose, then the corner of his lips.

“You’re the worst…” Kageyama feels his eyes beginning to fall shut from those soft caresses.

“Hmm,” Oikawa finishes with a kiss to Kageyama’s lips. “Still hate me?”

That makes Kageyama’s eyes fly open. He finds Oikawa looking at him, his grin genuine yet weighted by words yet unsaid and feelings yet unnamed.

“Y-yeah…” Kageyama feels his chest swell with an emotion dangerously close to love. “But I…I also…”

Oikawa’s thumb slides over his lips, gently silencing him. “I know,” he says quietly. “And you don’t have to say it now. Come to bed?”

It is so strange, sometimes, the unexpected direction that life can take. Kageyama feels like he’s just emerged from a fever dream, and now everything feels right in a way that they haven’t in a long time.

He takes another glance at the still-drizzling night sky outside, and lets himself be led into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Haikyuu fic! Dedicated to my favourite pairing, Oikawa/Kageyama. I know the ending is sappy, lol. I just want our boys to be fluffy and happy in this one. Also, there are probably canonical inaccuracies scattered throughout, sorry. I do miss some details here and there. Hope you guys enjoyed reading the fic, nonetheless!


End file.
